Hey Frank Thanks for the Memories by Jack Coll

Hey Frank

Thanks For The Memories

By Jack Coll

Frank Zoltowski

A Conshohocken Treasure

I can’t remember the first time I actually met Frank Zoltowski, I can remember taking my children to the Fellowship House after school.  Brian was playing kickball, must have been 1980, 1981, sometime in the very early 1980’s.  This guy was leaning against the stage, he was the umpire, and he would start the game by having everyone line-up and point and say, “You, you, you, you, you, you and you take the field, the rest of you line up against the stage, you’re up.)  And so it went, sometimes he would look at the players in the field and change a player or two out, swap them out with the other team.

I was a young father sitting on top of the bleachers, the bleachers weren’t pulled out, you had to climb up on them but the view was good, I was in the front row every day, the only row.  On a good day it was usually me and one other father or mother in the stands.  At first I wondered why when he picked the teams for kickball, he would then take the time to swap players.  As I continued to go to the Fellowship House what seemed like five days a week after school with my children I noticed that Frank wasn’t very good as an umpire, he missed a lot of calls, he called a lot of kids SAFE, when they were out, clearly if one of the players questioned the umpire, “Frank,” his standard response was there was “interference, He/she is safe,” I never saw any interference.

Well the more I watched, the more I realized that Frank was trading kids at the beginning of the games to even the talent for both sides, he called a lot of interferences for two reasons, if a child wasn’t all that good, Frank made sure they contributed to the output of the team, and Frank always controlled the game to make it close.  It was like a roller derby game, it came down to the last inning, sometimes the last player to kick the ball.

This guy wasn’t blind or blowing calls, he was building confidence in every child who chose to participate in the after school activity.  Same with after-school pickup basketball games, Frank would sort the talent and play ball.  If one team started to open the spread of the game, Frank called a lot of fouls on the team that was in the lead, I watched a lot of games from the stands thinking “That was no foul, the kid he’s calling the foul on wasn’t within ten feet of the shooter, often the first and second foul shot didn’t count if the shooter missed, Frank would blow the whistle and call an opposing player for being on the line and the shooter would shoot sometimes four or five times until he sank two points.

Then there was that famous magical clock, game on the line, the underdogs down by a couple, “10 SECONDS” Frank would yell, WELL, twenty minutes later Frank would yell, “Two seconds.”  And so it went.

This guy was on a mission, he gave meaning to the term, “No child left behind.”  In Frank’s eyes no child would be embarrassed, no child would ever feel like a loser in that building, and you didn’t want to get caught picking on another child, Frank could be a little gruff at times, “HEY, COME-MEER, HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF I SAID THAT TO YOU, HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT.”

The funny thing is when I reflect back on those days I realize that Frank must have been in his early 30’s, a young man who walked a little slow but was sharp as a tack.  Somewhere along the line I did get to know Frank, got to know him well enough that his entire life was built around not just helping shape young lives, but man the kid who was an underdog, (and we had a lot of underdogs growing up in Conshohocken in the 1960’s, 1970’s and 1980’s) those underdogs had a friend in Frank.

Going back to the beginning of Frank’s career at the Fellowship House, I personally don’t think Frank ever intended to stay for half a century, when Frank started at the Fel Lyndon Johnson was in the White House, Motown, Stones and Beatles filled the air waves with endless hit songs, Sugar was 50 cents for five pounds, a house in Conshy cost $10,000, and for goodness sake gas was 28 cents a gallon.  Frank signed on as a part time employee under the late great Al Donofrio, Fellowship House Director from 1959 until his death in 1976.  I think Al Donofrio recognized the talent Frank had with children and convinced him to stay.  I also think Frank recognized the love he had for the community and the building  and wanted to stay.

By 1965 Frank signed on as the assistant coach for the St. Matthews CYO varsity boys basketball team, I’m sure he didn’t mind helping out and it was just for the season, so he thought, halfway through the season he assumed the head coach role and decided to stay for a while.  Frank also assumed the athletic duties, for a short time, thirty years to be exact.  The CYO League that St. Matthews participated in was filled with athletic power-houses, local kids with a ton of talent. For 30 years where Frank’s teams lacked in talent he made up for good coaching. In my years of observation Frank’s teams didn’t always have the best talent on the floor, but man he’d coach the victory right out from under the talented team.

Frank would go on to coach countless division titles, regional titles, not to mention the countless All Stars from over the years, both boys and girls.  Then there was the Conshohocken Babe Ruth baseball league, the St. Matthew’s CYO Baseball Team, and enough stories to fill a book.

The one thing Frank looked forward to every year was the annual Albert C. Donofrio Basketball Tournament, I think Frank was there from the beginning.  For three week every year it was like Christmas Morning to Frank, day after day, he’d get to wake up and unwrap presents on his way to the tournament.  I don’t think Frank ever got paid for working the tournament, he loved being there, it was all volunteer, working the late nights, cleaning up in the kitchen, I would marvel at the fact that he knew everyone in the place, he didn’t know them personally he knew all about them.  For many of his years at the tournament Frank kept the score book, six weeks following the tournament he could tell you about almost any player and how many points he scored.

Above all Frank is and always will be all about the Fellowship House, greeting kids at the door, speaking with and encouraging parents, with their kids accomplishments, and never afraid to tell someone to knock it off.

When Frank walks out of the building for the last time as an employee, it truly will be the end of an era, take a good look, shake his hand, this man will never be replaced, his shoes could never be filled, and he really is something special.

I watched, and photographed, and have written about his teams more times than I care to count over the years.  And over those years Frank would say to me, can you get me a picture of this kid or that kid, I figured he must have a hell of a scrap book.  The thing is he would get these pictures from me, and mail them to the kids when they graduated high school, sharing a memory, when life was a little less complicated in seventh and eighth grade without the pressure of college, jobs, career and or family.

Funny thing is in the end, I don’t think Frank ever gave a hoot about wins and losses, what I took away from Frank was this, he had something to give to everyone, and what he gave to me was this:

Frank Never Hated;

He never used the word Hate:

He never spewed hatred in any direction:

And he never talked down to anyone, to anyone.

     Frank is the most common guy I think I’ve ever met, except he carries more class and dignity than anyone I’ve met in my life.  That’s a pretty big statement, I’ve walked with presidents, I spent a decade in the dugouts and on the sidelines and in the locker-rooms of professional teams and athletes, I sat at the dinner table with movie stars and millionaires, and looking back there’s no one I’d rather sit down to dinner with than Frank Zoltowski.

Frank has seen nine Presidents of the United States come and go during his time at the Fellowship House, that’s a long time.

Frank will retire after giving fifty years of service to this borough, I don’t think it will ever happen again.

On a cold windy winter day back in 1952, hundreds of residents gathered for the official groundbreaking of what would become the Fellowship House.  Newton Walker, brother of Hervey, who together owned the Walker Brothers Plant, was the master of ceremonies and explained to the bundled up residents that the facility we are about to build will be a place of “Fellowship” for all our residents, this facility shall be known as “The Fellowship House.”  Newton must have had Frank Zoltowski in mind when he named the Fellowship House, because Frank is all about fellowship.

As I sit here in the year 2014, reminiscing about my time at the Fel, how I would love to go back, just for a moment to see Frank umpiring a kickball game, calling someone safe when they were really out, or calling someone out when they were really safe, just to keep the game close, yea, just for a moment.

Hey Frank, Don’t Blink,

50 years goes faster than you think!

From all the kids who grew up to be productive parents and grandparents,

They thank you from the bottom of their hearts!!

After all a little piece of their success came from you,

because of you.

Thanks for the Memories Frank,

Thanks for everything!

May God Bless You and keep you safe and healthy.